


Captured Effortlessly

by PrettyCalypso



Series: Ain't nobody (loves me better) [1]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence, Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Masturbation, Sexual Content, also i'm bad at tagging, but also kind of canon compliant, more or less, probably some fluff, pseudo childhood friends AU, some violence, tags might be added, typical Shameless slurs, you will all hate me for that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-09 22:54:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4367411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettyCalypso/pseuds/PrettyCalypso
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pseudo childhood friends AU, but not really at the same time. Kind of canon compliant.<br/>Ian and Mickey met at the baseball field when they were kids and became sort of friends. They grow up and their relationship changes, especially when they start to explore their sexuality.</p><p>This is the first part of a new series. In the second part, nothing will be canon compliant anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Little League

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first multichapter fic and I don't really know where I'm going with it, but I felt like writing it so I'm sorry if it's shit.
> 
> Characters might be OOC, I don't know...
> 
> Oh and English is not my first language so I'm sorry in advance for any grammatical mistake.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian and Mickey are respectively 6 and 8 years old when they first met in Little League. But they didn't start talking to each other until a year later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know anything about baseball, you might notice, so sorry if some stuff don't make sense.

 

Ian liked baseball. He was one of the youngest in his Little League team, but he was also one of the best player. He was industrious, conscientious, ambitious, with an incredible ethic. And sports were his thing. He didn't have the brains like Lip, and without being terrible at school he wasn't so good at it. He was average. Compared to Lip, he was always average. Except for sports. Lip was too lazy for it, he only ran when being chased. Ian enjoyed it. Ian was good at it.

 

His coach wasn't so bad, but he screamed a lot. Coaching a Little League team with only kids from South Side Chicago is not an easy matter. Some kids didn't do what they were told. Some only came when it pleased them. Some used words Ian was sure Fiona wouldn't allow in his mouth. And some did all of the above. Like Mickey Milkovich. The Milkoviches didn't have a good reputation in the neighborhood – even at six years old Ian knew that – and Mickey wasn't an exception to the rule. He was one, maybe two years older than the redhead but he already acted like a teenage thug. Ian wasn't really impressed by him. And to be honest, he didn't really care about him. He just came to Little League to play baseball and have a good time away from his hellish family and the two crying babies Monica had dropped off one after the other. That was until “The Incident” - as the team later called it.

 

It was a late spring morning. The weather was becoming warmer and warmer by the minute and Ian had a very short and agitated night with Carl waking up every hour to scream like hell. The redhead was tired and couldn't bring his A-game into the training. Half the team was running around, trying to catch each other more than the ball. And the coach was seeing red. Unfortunately – for Mickey or maybe for the coach, Ian didn't really know – Mickey had chosen this day to come in late and lazy. Ian watched the brunet boy becoming a little bit more angry – and he was starting off on a very angry base from his usual self – each time the coach snapped at him. And it was a lot of times. After what felt like an eternity of shouting back and forth, Mickey threw his hat and glove onto the ground and unzipped his pants to piss right there, on first base. It was kind of a majestic gesture Ian thought – although maybe not in those words – a beautiful “fuck you” to the coach who, evidently couldn't stand him. And like that, Mickey Milkovich was gone, out of the Little League team. And he never came back.

 

******

 

Mickey didn't like baseball. He was in the Little League team because his brothers had been before him, and his dad thought it was a good sport for a boy – and also probably because it was the only one available in this neighborhood. But Mickey was short and grumpy, and the coach was a jerk, so he hated baseball. He still went though because he had learned very quickly in his life to do exactly what his dad wanted him to do. Thankfully he was now old enough to learn a few “useful skills” so he could skip on the team when Iggy took him shop-lifting in the neighborhood's convenience stores.

 

The day he quit the team had already started as a bad day for him. His dad was drunk again and his mum was nowhere to be found. He had to let Mandy with Iggy and then run to avoid his dad's fists. (Iggy wasn't the oldest brother but he was the only one Mickey actually trusted to protect Mandy.) And then the coach yelled at him for being late. And yelled at him for being distracted. And yelled at him for being slow. And yelled and yelled, always finding a new reason for it. Mickey didn't say a word, clenching his fist to his sides. He was better here than at home. He tried to keep his anger quiet, until he couldn't. He threw his hat and glove – both already more than worn out by his brothers before him – and decided that the best thing to do was to piss on first base. It was probably childish and stupid, but Mickey was only eight after all.

 

He didn't go back to his house right away, he couldn't affront his dad right now. He would probably have to pretend to go to the training every week until the summer, but it wasn't such a big deal, there were only a few times left, and his dad had promised that he could quit next year to officially go with with his brothers on every one of their scams and stealings. But for now, Mickey decided to stay away from his house. He walked around, wandered for a while, until he found a nice empty stop under the L with forgotten pieces of furniture. He sat there, on the destroyed couch, enjoying a moment of solitude before having to go back to this hellish place he called home.

 

******

 

**A year later**

Ian liked to wake up early so he could train on his own in the baseball field. The year was coming to an end and the team was getting ready for their last game against their rivals. Ian, as the best player, had a lot a pressure on his shoulders from his coach. So he woke up early every morning to go train on his own.

 

The field was empty, as usual, the sun only rising up in the horizon. It had been a year since Mickey beautifully quit the Little League team but he liked to come here, from times to times, especially since his mum died. He sat in the dugouts with a pack of beers and a pack of cigarettes. He had started both recently and was still getting used to the taste, but he liked the habit of it. He opened his first can and lit his first cigarette. A couple of minutes later, a silhouette came into view. Like every time, the redhead settled in the field without noticing Mickey and started to train on his own. And the young thug watched him, appreciating the swift gesture. This kid was good.

 

Ian trained for an hour, very well aware of Mickey's look on him. The Milkovich was always there when he came, staying half hidden in the dugouts and Ian tried to pretend not to see him. The two boys never talked and Ian usually left about an hour and a half after he arrived. But today, he stopped his training after an hour and headed straight for Mickey.

 

Why was the redhead coming to him? Mickey didn't want to talk to him, he didn't want to talk to anybody. He took a couple of more drags on his cigarette, trying not to look nervous. He wasn't nervous. Why would he be nervous? It's not like he never talked to a person before, and the redheaded boy was a small person, a kid, probably even younger than him.

 

Ian stopped in front of Mickey, hovering him with his lanky freckled body.

“Hey”

The brunet boy stayed still on his bench without looking up at him. Rude.

“What you doing here?”

Mickey threw away his cigarette. He was too young to smoke, Ian thought. He sat next to him.

“You never play baseball.”

 

The kid looked like he wanted to talk. Mickey sighed. He didn't like kids, and this one was especially annoying. It seemed like he wasn't going to shut up before having heard an answer from him.

“I was kicked off the team for pissing on first base.”

“I remember.”

Mickey finally turned to look at the kid, scrawling his eyes along his chest without actually looking at his face.

“You heard about that?”

“I was there. I was playing second.”

Mickey nodded and lit up a new cigarette. He took a few drags before handing it toward the kid.

 

Ian shook his head, refusing the cigarette. He was definitely too young to smoke.

“Why do you come here if you don't play anymore?”

“To be alone.”

Ian understood the insinuation but didn't move. He didn't really know if it was to piss Mickey off or just because he felt like talking.

“You don't have any friends?”

“Why do you care?”

Ian shrugged. Maybe he didn't care.

 

Mickey was getting really annoyed: why wouldn't this kid leave?

“You don't want to know my name?”

“I don't give a shit.”

Mickey was pretty sure the kid was a Gallagher. Those reproduced like rabbits and were incredibly loud. And a kid talkative like that could only be Frank's son. Frank Gallagher who couldn't stop rantling and was annoying as fuck, according to his father.

“Ian. Gallagher.”

Here it was.

“And I know you're Mickey Milkovich.”

“How d'you figure that?”

“I just know.”

Mickey turned fully to the kid to catch two enormous green eyes. Was he judging his name? Did Mickey looked like a typical Milkovich to him? And what was a typical Milkovich? A drug-dealing thief who started smoking and drinking before even reaching the second digit?

“What that's supposed to mean?” he spatted.

The redhead looked confused.

“Nothing. I just... I just know it's your name.”

“Whatever.” Mickey muttered and just left, taking his last cans of beer with him.

 


	2. Green and blue eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian and Mickey can't stop thinking about each other. And Ian wants his first kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'll set up a Sunday/Wednesday rythm for the publication of this fic. I like it. So here goes the second chapter. And I'll try to post the next one Wednesday. Enjoy! :)

 

Mickey had very blue eyes, Ian had noticed before he walked away. He had never seen eyes so blue. Except maybe Mandy's, but she was Mickey's sister so it made sense. She was in Ian's class and every boy was 'in love' with her. But not Ian. He had never been in love, or as in love as a 7-year-old can be. Ian knew when a girl was pretty – and Mandy definitely was – but he didn't want to kiss her on the mouth or hold her hand like Lip did with his 'girlfriends'. Maybe he was just too young for that, it's what Lip had told him anyway.

 

******

 

Ian's green eyes were so huge, Mickey couldn't stop thinking about them. They were not like creepy apple green, but more brownish-greyish green. They were weird. Nobody should be allowed to have eyes like that. Especially with that many freckles. This kid looked like an alien. And, of course, Mandy couldn't stop talking about him.

She sat on the floor, next to Mickey's bed, gluing pieces of newspaper – that she stole from the neighbors, obviously – to a big sheet of blank paper. Some school thing Mickey remember not doing a couple of years back. It was an art project for which the teacher decided to pair up students, and Mandy had been paired up with Ian.

“He is very funny. But I don't think he knows it. He tells jokes sometimes, but he says they're from his brother. But I don't care, they're funny. And he's very nice too. He protected me when Teddy Barlow tried to lift my skirt...”

Mickey wasn't really listening. He caught glimpses of what his sister was saying, but not more. Lying on his bed, he felt his sleepiness catching up with him. He closed his eyes to see a flash of green eyes before Mandy woke him up, punching him in the arm.

“Hey Mick! You're not listening to me!”

Mickey grunted some intelligible answer.

“So... did you?”

Mickey looked down at his sister.

“Did you what?”

“Knew him! I told you: he's in the baseball Little League team, so maybe you met him.”

Mickey lied back on his bed.

“No, I didn't.”

The next week, Mickey was back at the baseball field early in the morning. Ian showed up ten minutes after him and trained for less than an hour before joining him. He sat next to Mickey without saying a word, balancing his legs against the wood of the bench. The noise was annoying. Mickey wanted to shove him to the ground for it, but he didn't. Instead he talked. Yes, he talked. He, Mickey Milkovich, started a conversation with someone.

“How the project going?”

He was staring at the ground but felt Ian's head turning to look at him.

“What?”

Mickey's eyes didn't leave the ground.

“The art project, with Mandy.”

“Oh.” Ian nodded, finally understanding. “It's okay. Your sister is nice. I think we're friends now.”

Mickey didn't say anything, but felt something weird in his stomach. It didn't like the idea of Ian being friends with Mandy. Maybe he was jealous? No. He just wanted to protect his sister, that was all.

“She talks more than you.” Ian noticed.

That was a given. Mickey stood up.

“Gotta go.” he mumbled.

And he left.

 

******

 

Ian was sure Fiona wouldn't like the idea of him talking to Mickey Milkovich. She was already not really happy with the idea of him being friends with Mandy, and she was the best Milkovich there was. Yes, she stole sometimes, and cursed too, and arrived late in school, but she was nice. And Ian didn't have a lot of friends, except for Lip, but it didn't count because Lip was his brother. So he was happy to be friend with Mandy. And Mandy seemed happy to be friend with him. But he was also very intrigued by Mickey. This grumpy boy was actually interesting. So he kept going at the baseball field every morning, even after the season was over. At first, he kept training, but his training became shorter every time until he gave up and just went to sit near Mickey in the dugouts. They didn't talk much, and when they did, it wasn't about anything interesting. And Mickey was always the first one to leave, suddenly. At first, Ian always tried to figure out what he had said to make him leave, but then he understood that it wasn't him, Mickey would leave anyway. And it was their summer: talking for a few minutes once a week in the dugouts of the deserted baseball field. Sometimes Mickey came in with bruises, but Ian didn't ask. Exactly like when Mandy went dark and silent for a while. Ian knew that the Milkovich home was worst than his, so he didn't ask. When school came back, Ian and Mickey kept their routine. And soon enough it was winter and the boys were 8 and 10 years old.

 

******

 

Ian had a fight with Lip the day before. Lip had told him he was a baby because he had never kissed a girl. It was true, Ian had never kissed a girl, but he didn't want to kiss a girl, not even Mandy. She was nice and pretty, but she was just his friend, he didn't want more than to talk to her, laugh with her, and play with her. Ian was not a baby, and Lip was just an idiot anyway.

 

The redhead boy arrived grumpy at the dugouts where Mickey was waiting for him, fighting against the cold of Chicago's winter. He sat silently next to him, and kept his eyes on his worn out gloves. Mickey finished his cigarette – he thought he actually liked it now, plus it was keeping him warm in that weather – and turned to look at his friend. Was Ian really his friend now? Maybe... Who knows what friendship is anyway?

“You okay?”

Ian nodded, muttering a few words under his breath.

“I'm fine.”

“Okay.”

And that was it. That was how most of their conversations went. But it was okay, it was good sometimes not to talk but still enjoying being with someone. Mickey liked this kind of friendship. But suddenly Ian raised his head and set his huge green eyes on the brunet boy.

“Have you ever kissed a girl?”

 

Ian wasn't sure why he had asked the question. Maybe because Mickey was older. Maybe he hoped Mickey would tell him it was not worth it. Or maybe, maybe he would tell him he had never done it either. Ian didn't really know which option he would like best.

 

Mickey felt himself blush slightly. Had he ever kissed a girl? Why would the kid ask him that? It was a stupid question!

“It's a stupid question.”

“So you did it?”

“None of your business.”

“How was it?”

Mickey tried to avoid those green eyes glaring at him. No, he had never kissed a girl. He never met a girl who wanted to kiss him. He never met anybody who wanted to kiss him. But he wasn't sure he wanted to be kissed, or to kiss. When he didn't answer, Ian turned his head to look down at his gloves again.

“I never kissed a girl.” he mumbled quietly.

Mickey wasn't really surprised. Ian was still a kid, he had all the time in the world to kiss a girl. What he added next was what straddled him.

“I don't think I want to kiss a girl.”

Mickey tried to laugh.

“What? You rather kiss a donkey?”

Ian looked up at him again with these puppy eyes he had sometimes. And Mickey understood. He understood stuff he didn't want to understand.

 

Ian was looking at Mickey, not saying anything. The idea had crossed his mind once or twice, but he wasn't sure if it was real. When he thought about someone he could kiss or would like to kiss, blue eyes kept popping in his brain, and he knew it wasn't Mandy's. It hadn't say anything to Lip. And he didn't want to ask Mickey directly, he was too afraid to loose this fragile friendship they had created. But right now, he was hoping Mickey would understand by himself. And, most of all, he was hoping Mickey wouldn't run away.

 

Blue eyes looked into green eyes. Mickey liked Ian, even if he didn't like to admit it. And sure, yes, he had thought about kissing him. But only for a second. And he didn't know if it was a good idea to actually do it. But when those puppy eyes landed on him, he knew he was going to do it. So he did it. He leaned closer to the freckled face and put his lips on Ian's. But only for a second. Then he left.

 


	3. I kissed a boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything went wrong after the kiss.  
> Ian and Mickey are now 10 and 12 years old, and Ian wants to experiment again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I already failed that Sunday/Wednesday rule, but I was super busy yesterday, so here it comes!
> 
> Also, I'm not very fond of this chapter. I don't really know what happened here. Too many masturbation scenes. Sorry about that.

 

Ian was sure now: he didn't want to kiss girls, because he wanted to kiss boys, or maybe just Mickey. He didn't tell Lip, he would rather be called a baby. But he did tell Mandy – not that he kissed Mickey, or even a boy, just that he had kissed someone. She said she didn't like any of the kisses she had. He said he liked the only one he had. She asked if she could kiss him. He said yes. Mandy kissed Ian. Ian kissed Mandy. She liked it. He did not. But he didn't tell her that.

Ian was also sure of something else: he had lost Mickey. When he arrived at the dugouts the week after their kiss, Mickey wasn't there. And he didn't come. Nor did he come the week after that, or the week after that, or the week after that. Or any week for the rest of the school year. Ian kept going to the baseball field, just in case, but he always ended up waiting alone for an hour on his wooden bench and nothing happened. He caught glimpses of Mickey when he went at the Milkovich house to see Mandy, but he knew that Mickey avoided him. So he took the hint, and by summer the baseball field once a week in the early morning was only a memory.

 

******

**Two years later**

When Mickey turned twelve, his brothers decided it was time for him to watch his first porno. So they stole the dirtiest movie they could find, waited for their dad to go at the Alibi room, sent Mandy away for a while – she probably went at the Gallagher house, Mickey thought – and sat down on the couch with a huge bottle of lube, and each with a box of tissues in their lap. Mickey didn't really care for the movie – the woman's boobs were too big to be real and the cameraman seemed to only follow her. Instead, Mickey's thought drifted to Mandy at the Gallagher house. Mandy talking to Ian, laughing with him. Mandy having a perfect view of those too many freckles and those big, beautiful green eyes. Mickey stood up suddenly. His brothers laughed when they saw his now too tight pants.

“Calm little bro, it's normal to be hard, sit the fuck back down and use the tissues.”

Mickey hesitated. He sat cautiously between Iggy and Colin and tried to get his mind back to the movie. He followed his brothers' lead and get his hand moving, but he noticed way too soon that the actress also had green eyes and that didn't help him concentrate on the movie.

 

When Mandy came back, Mickey was somehow hiding in his room, trying to forget what had happened in his mind when he watched the movie. He heard Mandy enter her own room and he got up, almost against his own will. His sister was lying on her bed, reading a magazine or some shit.

“Where have you been?”

She looked up at him.

“You guys kicked me out. I was at Ian's.”

Mickey felt a little twitch in his stomach. Why did he ask when he already knew the answer?

“Is he your boyfriend or something?”

“Why do you care?”

“I don't.”

“So don't ask.”

“I just want to know if I'll have to kick his ass some time soon.”

Mandy sighed.

“Yes, he is my boyfriend. And no, you won't have to kick his ass. Now, get out!”

 

******

 

Ian wasn't in Little League anymore – it took time, and Fiona needed all hands available to take care of the little ones when she was at work – and he hadn't been at the dugouts in almost two years, but he found himself going one morning when he tried to escape the insanity of his house. He wanted to be alone, but somebody was already sitting on the bench. A familiar figure, smoking a cigarette and nursing a can of beer. Ian approached slowly and sat next to him. Mickey looked up.

“So you do like to kiss girls.”

“What?”

He hadn't talk to Mickey in two years and that was the first thing the brunet boy thought of saying?

“Heard you're Mandy's boyfriend now.”

Oh yeah, right. Ian had never said anything to Mandy about not liking to kiss girls, but she figured it out on her own soon enough. And she suggested they could be fake girlfriend and boyfriend so the other boys wouldn't annoy her anymore and nobody could find out about Ian. Ian thought it was a good idea, he liked Mandy, she would be a great fake girlfriend. But he didn't say that to Mickey, although he didn't really know why.

“If I tell you I am, you're gonna kick my ass?”

“Only if you hurt her.”

Fair enough.

They didn't talk more that morning. But the silence wasn't like it used to be, this time it was uncomfortable, so Mickey left.

 

That night, Ian dreamed about Mickey, about blue eyes, and about a certain kiss. When he woke up, his pants were kind of wet. Lip told him he should learn to jerk off.

 

The very next week, he went back to the baseball field, hoping Mickey would be there. And Mickey was there.

 

Ian sat next to Mickey, like old times. Mickey didn't mind, he knew what to expect when he decided to come back to the dugouts, he even hoped this would be what happened. He only tried not to think too much about all those times in his bedroom when he thought about green eyes and freckles and his pants got too tight. Ian was weird again that day, like he was the day they kissed. Mickey should have seen it coming, and maybe he did, but he did nothing to stop it.

“Have you ever jerk off? Lip told me I should.”

Here it was. Run, run when you still can! But Mickey didn't move.

“You think I should?”

“If you want to. My brothers told me it's normal to do it.”

Ian seemed to hesitate.

“But it's just that... I don't really... I don't really know how to do it... Couldn't you just... show me?”

“Why don't you ask Lip?”

“He's my brother, it's weird.”

Mickey sighed. Shit. He stood up and went to stand in front of a still sitting Ian.

“Take your pants off.”

Ian looked at him in disbelief before he quickly obeyed.

“Okay so it's better if you have lube, and if you are, you know... hard. But for now you can just spit in your hand...”

Ian did it.

“... and touch yourself.”

Ian started to put his hand awkwardly on his dick. But he was doing it so wrong, Mickey put his own hand on Ian's and started to show him how to move it. Suddenly, the “hard part” was not a problem anymore, and Mickey knew he should have taken his hand off but he didn't. It was rapidly over. And Mickey finally took back his hand.

“I gotta go.”

On his way back home, he stopped by a convenience store to steal a magazine with posters of Megan Fox that he hung up in his bedroom's wall, just above his head.

 

Mickey didn't come back to the dugouts for a few weeks. Ian was starting to think he had scared him away again. The jerking off thing was a very, very stupid idea. He knew that now. But one morning, Mickey came back. A cigarette between his lips, he walked toward Ian but didn't sit next to him right away. Instead, he stood for a moment, looking angry, and spoke.

“I don't like to kiss boys. I don't like to kiss you. I like girls. And you are Mandy's boyfriend. And that's it.”

Ian nodded.

“We can still be friends though?”

Mickey hesitated for a second, and then came to sit next to Ian.

“Yes, just friends.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to try this new thing where I post the title of the next chapter at the end of each chapter. So you can try to imagine what's going to happen.
> 
> So chapter 4 (coming out on Sunday, if everything goes right) is "Megan Fox & Roger Spikey"


	4. Megan Fox & Roger Spikey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian and Mickey are 13 and 15 years old.  
> They have sex, but not together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of feel like I lost my way in Chapter 3 but found it back in this chapter so I like it way better.
> 
> Also, I don't think Mickey actually has a poster of Megan Fox in his bedroom, but you'll soon understand that I very much like easter eggs! ;)

 

Time went by. Mickey's bedroom walls were filling up with posters of sexy women, and tits, and occasionally Megan Fox. And he started to have sex, with girls. With a lot of girls. With too many girls. Once in a while though, he slid another kind of porno magazine in between the one he stole. A magazine with no breasts in it. And when his dad and brothers were out of the house, he took the familial laptop to watch another kind of porn – a kind he had to clear the history of. And he experimented with his body alone in his bedroom, trying to find what he really liked. To the outside world of course, and to Ian – especially to Ian – he was a regular straight dude who liked to bang chicks. But it wasn't the truth.

His first time had been a nightmare. His dad and brothers took him to a hooker when he turned thirteen – some kind of Milkovich rite of passage – and it was gross, dirty and horrible, but Mickey pretended he enjoyed himself. He told the exact same story to his family and to Ian without getting lost in details. His dad put his hand on his shoulder. “Good, son. You're a man now.” His brothers compared it with their first times, bragging more and more about their sexual abilities. And Ian just nodded silently, like he didn't really want to hear about that, but also like he somehow knew Mickey was full of shit but had decided to not go against him.

And weeks after weeks, Ian silently listened to Mickey's girls stories. Mickey never fucked a girl more than once, twice when she wasn't too much of a bitch. He didn't date, didn't kiss, just went for it. A girl managed to kiss him once, while they were doing it. It was the first and last time he did it face to face.

 

******

 

Time went by. Ian, with Mandy's help, tried to find someone – not necessarily a boyfriend, but at least someone – and he met Roger Spikey. Roger was some kid in his school. Not very interesting, not very bright, not very hot, just some random dude, some random gay dude. Contrary to Ian, he wasn't even trying to hide his sexuality – _bad move in this neighborhood_ , Ian thought, _bad move_ – and was clearly checking the redhead out in every classes they had together. So Ian decided to make a move on him. He wanted to, at least, kiss another boy than Mickey, to see if he really liked it. And maybe he'll let things go further and try sex with a boy. Mandy already had sex. She said that she didn't like it so much but it wasn't keeping her from doing it again apparently. She had this theory that the more she would do it, the more she would like it, and that, maybe, one day, one of the guys she fuck will be the one, her soulmate, the love of her life, all that girly crap. Ian wasn't sure he believed it. For now, he just wanted to experiment, to find out what he really liked. So he went to Roger Spikey. And the guy didn't say no to a meeting under the bleachers after school – again, bad move, Ian could have been a crazy homophobic teen – and he didn't say no to a kiss, and he didn't say no to a handjob. Ian didn't go further for now, judging by Roger's reaction, the guy would probably be okay for another meeting another day.

 

The weekly meeting with Mickey came along. Ian was late. Not on purpose, but he also kind of amuse him to annoy Mickey, the way he got pissed showed that he cared – or, at least, that what Ian chose to believe. The two boys sat together, sharing a first smoke – Ian smoked now, probably because of Lip, or Mickey, or just because he wanted to – and the redhead was the one starting the casual conversation they had going on.

“Fuck anyone good this week?”

Mickey seemed to tense up a little bit, like he was remembering a bad memory he wanted to forget. After a few seconds that felt longer, he shook his head.

“Nobody worth remembering.”

“I did.”

Mickey looked at him, confused.

“You did what?”

“I fucked someone worth remembering.”

It was a lie, of course. Roger and Ian didn't actually fuck, and even if they did Ian was sure Roger would not be worth remembering. But he liked the way Mickey seemed to tense up again, but differently than last time, more like anger or... jealousy maybe? Ian quickly shook this idea out of his head, he was getting ahead of himself.

“Don't tell me you're talking about my sister, Firecrotch?!” Mickey blurt out after winning back some composure.

Ian huffed a little laugh.

“You really think I would talk about fucking Mandy to you? I kinda wanna keep my kneecap.”

Mickey snorted. He let some awkward silence take place for a moment, before asking:

“So, who did you fuck?”

The question was full of other unspoken interrogations: did you fuck a girl? and if it wasn't a girl, did you really like it? or are you just messing with me? Obviously, Mickey didn't actually say any of that, but Ian knew that's what he meant.

“Some guy from school.”

Mickey didn't let the uneasiness settle this time.

“What's his name?”

Ian shook his head, half-smiling.

“You don't know him. And even if you did, I don't want you to go fagbash him. He's nice.”

“I don't fagbash you, don't I?”

“No, you'd miss me too much if you did.”

“Fuck you!”

And with that, Mickey left. Ian had it coming, he knew that, but it still hurt every time the other boy reacted this way.

 

******

 

 _Ian fucked a boy. Ian fucked a boy._ The thought was on replay in Mickey's mind. _Ian fucked a boy. Ian fucked another boy. Another boy than him._ No, he couldn't think that. Did Mickey want to fuck Ian? Maybe. Probably. Definitely. No, no, no, no. He couldn't think that. It's wasn't... safe. Yes, that was it. It wasn't safe. His dad would kill him. And his brothers would help. _Ian fucked a boy._ How was it even possible? How was it even doable? This stupid redhead would get killed pulling shit like that in this neighborhood. If people heard about it... But, on the other hand, if it was discreet, in an empty place, at a strategic time, like saying in the dugout of the baseball field early in the morning... No. Mickey couldn't think that, he couldn't let his mind go there. He suddenly stood up from his bed where he had been lying under the judgmental look of Megan Fox, grabbed his pack of cigarettes, and headed out. He needed to walk, to smoke, to clear his head, and maybe to beat the shit out of some random guy too.

 

******

 

Ian met Roger Spikey again. And this time, they did more than handjobs. Ian did the fucking, he wasn't really feeling like having a dick up his ass for his first time, and Roger really didn't mind taking him. It wasn't that great, and definitely not “worth remembering”, but Ian figured it had to be done. He had to have sex at some point, and because it couldn't, obviously, be with Mickey, he thought Roger wasn't such a bad choice. It wasn't wrong. Plus, he had heard a couple of days before that the guy was transferring at the end of the school year, so no attachment, no relationship to avoid, no complications. It was all good. Still, Ian began to understood what Mandy meant when she said that sex isn't great until you meet the right guy. Maybe it made him a girl, a pussy, or just a hopeless romantic, but this idea started to dig its way into his brain that sex with Roger was nothing compared to what sex with Mickey would be like.

 

So the next time they met, he decided to try something. It was risky, and probably stupid, but he figured it was worth trying. And if Mickey ran away again, maybe it meant he wasn't the right guy after all.

 

******

 

The Gallagher kid seemed weirdly proud of himself when he showed up for their next early morning meeting. Mickey's brain told him to run, but his heart told him to stay, and he listened to his heart. Shit, that was gay. And so un-Milkovich like. But it's exactly what he did, he stayed.

Ian sat next to him. They shared a cigarette in silence. The redhead looked like he was thinking, thinking way too much, and maybe even hesitating. It was annoying the hell out of Mickey. But when Ian finally opened his mouth to speak, Mickey kind of wished he hadn't.

“Have you ever gotten a blowjob?”

“No.” Mickey's answer was blunt.

“No, you've never gotten a blowjob?”

“No, I'm not doing that.”

Ian seemed confused now.

“What do you mean?”

“You asked if I ever kissed, then we kissed. You asked if I knew how to jerk off, and I jerk you off. So no, I'm not doing that.”

“You don't want to blow me?”

“I don't want to have this conversation.”

“What if I want to blow you?”

Mickey's head went up without him realizing it. Blue eyes met green eyes.

“It's less gay if you're on the receiving end of it.” Ian said softly. “Plus, I've never done it and I need practice for my 'worth remembering' guy.”

Mickey didn't need to hear that last part, didn't want to hear that last part.

“Okay.” he just said in spite of himself.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so next chapter (I hope I'll be able to post it Wednesday) is called "Home".


	5. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian and Mickey are 14 and 16 years old.  
> And things at home aren't quite right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, my chapter summary is not very good...

 

Home, to Ian Gallagher, was noisy, messy, but also joy and love. But that summer, the summer of his 14 years old, Monica was back, only to drop another baby – a Black one this time – on the family – or on Fiona more precisely. The summer passed very slowly. It was hot outside and crowded inside, and the only thing Ian enjoyed more than relaxing in the pool Lip and him had stolen to put in their backward, was to meet Mickey at the dugouts early in the morning. Their meetings went from once a week to once every two days. They never had proper sex, it was usually just Ian sucking Mickey's dick – never the other way around, it was _too gay_ for Mickey's taste – or jerking each other off, and all that always just to get some release – you know, just “bros being bros”, helping each other out. Of course, Ian did not believe one second the “bros thing”, and he constantly wanted something more from Mickey, so much more, but never asked for it. He knew Mickey wasn't ready, and was too scared to give it to him. So he just enjoyed what he had. Plus, he had the feeling that Mickey fucked less girls – or, at least, he talked less about it.

 

******

 

Home, to Mickey Milkovich, was cold, dead silent, scary and violent. And that summer, Terry was back, once again, from prison. It wasn't a surprise, Terry was always back from prison, but sometimes, just for a brief moment of pseudo happiness, Mickey allowed himself to believe that his father will never come back from prison. These moments, very small moments, were usually when he was with Ian, just after he checked for the 50th time if nobody could see them, and just before he started to imagine what would his dad do if he found out about them. _Them?_ They weren't even a _them_ , a _us_ , they were just two dudes hanging out; talking, drinking, smoking, touching each other's dick when they got hard – which they always did when they were together – you know, normal dude stuff. Right? Even Mickey knew it was bullshit, utter, deep bullshit. But he chose to believe as much as he could in this bullshit, because it was the only thing allowing him not to drown. Drown in something he couldn't be, something he couldn't want. Drown in Ian Gallagher.

 

******

 

When school came back and it was time for Ian to start high school, he made two decisions: he joined the Junior ROTC, and he found a job at a local convenience store. Both allowed him to be out of the house more often, one actually putting food on the table, and the other giving him the opportunity to, one day, maybe, leave South Side Chicago. Monica had left again, of course, Monica had left. But Terry hadn't. Ian knew it. He saw it every day in Mickey and Mandy. Mickey came to their meetings with more bruises than the usual 'I just beat the shit out of some guy in the street', and Mandy was more and more silent.

Ian tried to talk to Mickey, but the brunet just shrugged.

“I have nothing to talk about.”

Ian tried to talk to Mandy, and she gave him a very scary look. It was somewhat menacing – because Mandy was always more or less menacing – but it was also so afraid. And Ian knew that even if she wanted to talk about it, she couldn't do it, so he gave her a quick but loving hug to let her know that he would always be there when she'll be ready.

And that was it. Ian didn't try more to talk about, or understand what it was like to live with Terry Milkovich. He just knew that he would never understand, and he felt lucky, in a way, to have Frank as a father. He was a drunk, and a pathetic excuse for a human being but at least he had only hit Ian once.

 

And that time when Ian came back with a black eye from a fight with Frank, Mickey immediately reacted.

“What happened to you?”

Ian suppressed a smile. Mickey was in a worst state than him.

“To me? Have you seen yourself?”

“Fuck off. I'm always fighting. You don't fight.”

“How do you know I don't fight?”

Mickey shot him a knowing look.

“Come on man. What happened?”

Ian shrugged.

“Frank happened.”

“Your piece of shit dad? I'm gonna break every knuckle on his hand, all 15 of them! He won't be able to use his fists no more!”

Ian smiled.

“Don't. He has a lousy short-term memory, he's probably already forgotten. Plus, a hand only has 14 knuckles.”

 

******

 

Mickey went back to high school that year. He hated it, and he was bad at it, but he went anyway, without actually knowing why. Although, when he realized what the teachers were asking from him, and how much it could cost him to pay for Lip Gallagher's perfect papers to, at least, finish the year, he decided he was done and never went back after the first week. So here he was, hanging around in the streets by day, helping his brothers and father with various 'jobs' and kicking his boredom – quite literally – by going into fights with other thugs; and meeting Ian by night – they had decided to change their meetings from mornings to nights because of Ian's new crazy schedule.

The first time the redheaded teenager arrived at the dugouts in his ROTC uniform, Mickey had to fight hard not to jump on him and ask him to fuck him right here and then. Ian walked toward him with a big stupid smile on his face.

 

“So, what do you think?” he asked, extending his arms to really show off his new soldier habiliment.

“Looks like you're ready to get your ass shot by some random Muslim dude.” Mickey mocked.

Ian smiled at the comment, and sat next to him, stealing his cigarette and taking a drag.

“Talking about that...” he started before Mickey stole his cigarette back. “My new boss is Muslim, and I think he wants a piece of my ass. Not in the same way though...”

Mickey did one of his best eyebrows raising thing.

“He wants to marry you in front of some weird Arab dude and make you wear a scarf for the rest of your life?”

Ian chuckled.

“He's already married. And he has kids.”

“So... you gonna fuck him?”

Ian shrugged.

“Maybe... I need someone to fuck right?”

The redhead tried to rise his eyebrows ironically 'à la Mickey'. Mickey laughed.

“You're like some kind of horny middle-aged housewife, aren't you?”

Ian shoved him playfully. Mickey took another drag of his cigarette.

“You don't fuck Mandy?”

Ian sighed.

“No, you know I don't fuck Mandy.”

“You could. She's your girlfriend.”

“I don't want to fuck Mandy. And she's not really my girlfriend, she's my best friend.”

“I thought I was your best friend!”

Ian looked at Mickey. Was he actually serious?

“You wanna talk labels Milkovich?”

Mickey stayed silent for a few minutes. _Yeah, that's what I thought._

“You want me to scare that towel-head off you?” Mickey finally asked after finishing his smoke.

Ian shook his head.

“Nah, I'm fine. I can defend myself. Plus, he's kind of nice.”

Mickey snorted. And that was the end of this conversation for the day.

 

But the very next day, when Ian was in the middle of his shift at the Kash and Grab, Mickey showed up unexpectedly. He barely looked at Ian but stared openly at Kash, stealing things here and there to cover his presence. Ian had trouble to hide his smile. He loved that Mickey was 'protecting' him, or at least protecting his territory. So Mickey kept coming, stealing chips, or salsa, or sodas, or candies – especially Snickers bars – and watching Kash so he couldn't touch Ian. And Ian decided to never fuck Kash.

 

******

 

Mickey couldn't stop going at the Kash and Grab. He knew his brothers and father started to get onto him, but if he kept bringing them food and kept accompanying them on their runs, he was in the clear. The only reason he was going at the Kash and Grab though was to make sure this old pedophile wasn't planning on molesting a poor innocent redhead. A poor innocent redhead with deep green eyes. A poor innocent redhead with deep green eyes and a big, huge dick... Alone at home and lying on his bed, Mickey let his hand travel down his body until his already hard cock. He closed his eyes, imaging Ian's hands, Ian's mouth on him. His movements became faster, so did his breathing. With his other hand, he swiftly touch his ass, and slowly push one finger in. Two fingers. Three fingers. Ian pounding relentlessly into him, Ian's chest crowding his back, Ian's fingers digging into his hips, Ian panting into his ears. Mickey came hard on his hand. God, he needed to get laid. He wasn't fucking girls anymore – well, except when he was out in bars with his brothers and father and felt like he needed to to save his skin – but he wasn't fucking anybody either. He wasn't sure if he actually wanted to. Well... actually he really really wanted to fuck Ian, or, more precisely, to be fucked by him. But he knew he couldn't. Not with Terry around. Not with Terry this close... He stood up suddenly.

“Fuck, Ian.”

 

Ian was already waiting for about twenty minutes at the dugouts when Mickey finally showed up. He looked annoyed and mentally exhausted, but also hesitating. Although, when he stopped in front of the redhead, he was determined. He shoved a condom and a small bottom of lube on his laps.

“You better make it worth remembering Gallagher.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might have noticed that I managed to place three “famous lines” in one small piece of dialogue. If you did, it means that you're like me and know the show way too well for your own good. ;)
> 
> Next chapter on Sunday : "Whispers and revelations" (although I don't like this title so it might change).


	6. Like a promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian and Mickey are 15 and 17 years old.  
> And the return of Monica brings some news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHO ELSE IS ALL BUTTERFLIES AND SUNSHINE TODAY????  
> Well I am. Shameless is back on track and I'm enjoying some time of happiness before crying in front of my TV when season 6 will actually start. Also, I was among the few people who never really gave up hope concerning Noel Fisher's return so: I told you so! ;)
> 
> Oh and I changed the title of this chapter.

 

“Come on Gallagher, get a move on. I need to get home soon.”

“Please, don't talk about your family when my dick's in your ass.”

“You rather I talk about your family?”

Ian stopped his erratic movements.

“Are you actually trying to cockblock me?”

Mickey turned his head to look at Ian, a smirk on his face.

“Believe me. That's really not what I'm doing.”

Ian leaned closer to his face, reaching his hand upfront to grab Mickey's dick, making him gasp.

“Oh... I think I know...” the redhead whispered.

He really, really wanted to kiss Mickey. But they hadn't kiss since that first time when they were still kids. So he stood back up and went back to his pounding, getting Mickey's ass closer to his hips.

“Fuuuck...” both boys let out almost at the same time.

Ian's movements became less controlled as he tried to match them to his hand around Mickey's hard member.

“Fuck Ian, I'm so close.”

“Me too...”

The words were only whispers now, like promises spoken only between them, Ian leaning against Mickey's back, his mouth so close to the other boy's right ear. And that was it. Mickey came in Ian's hand and on the fence in front of him. Ian pounded into him a few more times, and he was filling the condom with a grunt.

 

******

 

[Mick 4.04pm] _you fucking my sister?_

Ian was lying on Mandy's bed, the girl was sitting next to him, and they both tried to study for their history exam. If only Ian's phone would stop vibrating...

[Ian 4.05pm] _You bet I am. I'm giving it to her good and hard. Don't you hear the bed knocking_ _against_ _your wall?_

Ian smiled. Mandy sighed.

[Mick 4.06pm] _fuck you_ _g_ _allagher_

[Ian 4.07pm] _I_ _'d_ _rather fuck you Milkovich ;_ _)_

Ian smiled again. Mandy sighed again.

“So, when do I get to meet your mystery guy?”

“I told you Mands, he's not out yet...”

“Can't you at least give me something?! One little tiny detail? Pleeeaaase???”

Ian raised his upper body to support himself on his elbows. Mandy was looking at him expectantly with her familiar blue eyes and a small smirk on her lips. Ian smiled back and thought for a second.

“Okay...” he gave up.

Mandy's smile got bigger.

“He... has blue eyes.”

“Oooh... That's so cute.” Mandy exclaimed a little too loudly.

[Mick 4.12pm] _what's wrong with_ _m_ _andy?_

[Ian 4.13pm] _Just told her a little something about 'my mystery guy'. ;_ _)_

[Mick 4.14pm] _what the fuck_ _g_ _allagher???_

A second later, Mickey was in the doorway of Mandy's bedroom.

“Why you screaming like a little girl?”

“Maybe because I am a girl Mick.”

Ian leaned back down on the bed, smiling again while the siblings started to throw playful insults at each other.

 

******

 

Gallagher's stupid smile was annoying the shit out of Mickey, but he also kind of love it. _Like it._ Like it, not love. Now that the two boys had started fucking, Mickey couldn't get enough of the redhead. He would deny it before God obviously, but still, it was painfully true. He was always the first one to arrive at the dugouts, bringing beers and cigarettes – Ian was bringing the lube and the condoms – and he never failed to come at the Kash and Grab at least twice a week. And when Kash – or his hardass and actually scary wife Linda – wasn't there, they were going at it in the freezer. And even though Ian was a great laid and Mickey wasn't fucking anyone else anymore, he still had very strict rules: never do it face to face, no touching more than necessary, and no kissing, never, ever any kissing. It was a routine, a nice routine they fell into without looking back. For Mickey, it almost felt like happiness. Until everything went to shit.

 

It all started when Monica came back. Once again. Ian ran directly to Mickey and they decided to meet at the dugouts, Ian missing work for the day. The redhead was all shaky and angry, and fucked Mickey good and hard to forget the sudden arrival of his shit mother. They didn't talk. They just let off steam physically. Mickey needed it too. He always needed to let off steam when his father was around, when he wasn't in prison. So they fucked, and ran after each other around the baseball field like the stupid teenagers they still were, somewhere deep down.

 

A couple of days later, Ian arrived at their 'dugouts meeting' with a stern face. He sat next to Mickey and the brunet boy knew that it was – unfortunately – time for words. He took a long drag of his cigarette, maybe to find some courage, talking really wasn't his thing.

“What's up?”

Ian raised his eyes to him with a face that Mickey had never seen before.

“Frank isn't my father.”

“That a bad thing?”

“I don't know...”

Ian looked almost confused. Mickey tried to make him smile again, because that was definitely something he liked to see in the redhead.

“Isn't Frank a piece of shit father?”

“He is. And I don't care about him. It's just... it's just weird to think that I'm not fully related to the others... I'm less of a brother to Lip than Carl or Liam. And Fiona... Fiona has four full siblings and a... a bastard...”

Mickey sighed slightly. Shit. Ian couldn't start thinking like that.

“Hey.” He put a hand on the redhead's shoulder. “I'm sure they don't care about blood. You six grew up like a pack of wolves, fighting and protecting each other. Nothing will change that. That your shitty mother slept with some random dude to make you...”

“My uncle.”

“What?”

“My real father is one of Frank's brothers.”

“See? You even stay in the family! So what, you're their half-brother half-cousin? Ain't so bad! Gallaghers are all about family right? You're not a bastard, you're just the lucky one who didn't get Frank's drunken genes!”

Ian snorted.

“Yeah, I just get Monica's crazy fucked up genes...”

“Fuck that!” Mickey exclaimed.

He opened a can of beer and sip some before handing it to Ian.

“Parents are shit anyway...”

Ian looked at him with that 'I'm gonna ask about Terry now' look, so Mickey abruptly stood up.

“Come on! Let's fuck it out of your brain!”

Ian smiled – that bright, beautiful smile – and pulled his shirt off.

 

Ian felt better after that, but he was still distracted. Lip had got into the crazy idea of making him meet his 'real dad', and Monica and her rude unpleasant girlfriend did everything they could to take Liam away. The very next day, Fiona had moved out of the family house and Ian had an argument with Lip, trying to make him understand he had no interest in meeting the guy Monica once fucked sixteen years ago. So Mickey found him pouting behind the counter in the empty Kash and Grab.

“Kash here?”

Ian looked up and esquissed a slight smirk.

“Why? He forgot your date?”

Mickey gave him the finger.

“I don't know where Kash is. Fucking some guy in an alley? Fighting with his wife? Who cares...”

“You okay there Gallagher?”

Ian sighed.

“I'm fine. Why? You want me all rainbow and butterflies for a quick fuck in the freezer? Isn't it too gay for you?”

“Fuck you!”

Mickey started to turn on his heels to exit the store. Ian sighed again.

“Mick wait!”

Mickey stopped on his tracks and Ian left the counter to go stand between the thug and the door.

“Wanna fuck before you leave?”

Mickey shot his eyebrows playfully.

“Do I ever say no to that?”

 

And that's how Kash caught them fucking in the back of the store. He was only gone for a quick run and came back soon, too soon. When he opened the door of the freezer and surprised them mid-action, Mickey panicked and ran away. But once out, he realized how stupidly and weakly he had reacted. Not the kind of reaction a Milkovich raised by Terry should have. So he went back, trying to put on his best thug behavior, stealing some shit and menacing the towel-head. But Kash, tired of Mickey's constant threats and Linda's constant yelling, pulled out the gun his wife had gotten him and fired a shot.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of next chapter was supposed to be “I miss you”, but because I'm trash and also very happy this weekend, I changed it to “I only miss him when I'm breathing” and I believe most of you will get the reference. ;)


	7. I only miss him when I'm breathing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the shooting at the Kash and Grab, Mickey ends up in juvie.  
> In the meantime, Ian changes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Sorry I'm late.”  
> I've been having issues with my Internet connection this last week so I couldn't post anything. Sorry.
> 
> This chapter is pretty much a copy/paste of the show (end of season 1/beginning of season 2) but I needed it in my story, so all the credits here are going to the writers of this amazingly addictive TV series.

 

Mickey was bored. Out of his mind bored. Juvie sucked. And he kind of missed Ian, even though he wouldn’t admit. He landed in juvie after what happened at the Kash and Grab. He was the only Milkovich boy to be smart enough to avoid juvie, until that moment. Fooling around with Ian and his thug attitude sent him behind bars. Fuck, that sucked.

 

Iggy had sent him porn. Regular boring porn. But Mickey just ended up jerking off to the only somewhat ginger guy in the magazine. His hair wasn't even really red, it was just light brown but Mickey might have been desperate. So after that, he asked Mandy and his brothers to only send him girl on girl porn. No guys in it and he could totally foul his cellmates, pretending to be jerking off to some chick when, really, he was just picturing the only redhead that mattered.

 

******

 

Ian really missed Mickey. And not only that, he was also a very horny sixteen years old boy. Like pretty much every teenager right? But he didn't want to fuck anyone but Mickey. He was craving the soft feeling of his skin under his fingers, he was craving his smell, he was craving his tight ass, and his beautiful eyes, and his too rare laugh... So he tried to release his sexual energy by jerking off, mostly in the shower, and by running, and training. Soon enough, he could do a hundred pushups at a time, run a six minute-mile and hit a target at two hundreds miles with a M16. He had grown up a couple of inches, took on muscle and cut his hair for ROTC. He wasn't looking like some awkward lanky teenager anymore. He was tall, and fit, he looked more and more like a soldier, and he enjoyed it.

 

******

 

At first, Ian came to see him in juvie. When Mickey was called to the parlor and he stumbled over there on his crunches, he was happy to be met with this stupidly big green eyes and those too many freckles. He had trouble hiding his smile.

“How long?” Ian asked.

“I don't know. Supposed to be a year right? Maybe a couple of months if I don't do anything stupid.” Mickey answered.

“I miss you.” Ian said.

“Say that again and I'll rip your tongue outta your head.” Mickey replied.

Ian smiled. Mickey smiled. God, that freckly redhead would be the death of him.

“Lip got arrested for stealing cars with Steve.” Ian continued.

Mickey nodded. He didn't really care, but he liked listening to Ian talking about anything and everything.

“Well, if he's sent here, I'll make sure to save him a seat at the cafeteria.”

Ian laughed lightly. And they kept making small talk for a few minutes before the guard told them time was up. Before they both stood up, Ian promised he would try to come regularly. Mickey didn't say anything but sure hoped the redhead would respect this promise.

Only he didn't. Ian came back the next week, and two weeks after that. And then he couldn't anymore. He always had work, or school stuff, or babysitting, or ROTC retreats, or family issues to solve. Mickey felt lonely, but he understood. Ian had a life outside of juvie. Mickey didn't. Iggy and Colin came to see him, once. Mandy came twice, but then complained about the wandering hands of the guards. Terry didn't come, obviously. And that was all. Mickey had no one else. So he tried to keep a low profile, only got into a couple of fights, worked out during the day, and jerked off to girl on girl porn at night. Juvie sucked.

 

******

 

Ian was doing crunches in the small bedroom he shared with his brothers when Lip came in, a cigarette in his mouth. Lip sat on Ian's bed.

“Yo! You training for a marathon?”

Ian stopped and sat down.

“You got the truck running?” he asked.

“Yep. We're back in ice cream business.”

Ian started to get his clothes off and headed to the bathroom. He heard Lip's distant voice as he closed the door.

“Don't jerk off in there!”

Ian made a face his brother couldn't see and got the water running. He had barely started his shower and Lip opened the curtain and yelled.

“What the hell is this?”

“Fuck Lip!”

He stopped the water.

“It's an admission pack.”

“For West Point?”

“You go through my stuff now?”

“Ian, you just graduated the 10th grade!”

“I wanted to see what it would take to get in.”

“What? To West Point? Wait... You're actually serious about this shit?”

“Well I was in ROTC for two years, so what do you think Lip?”

“I don't know, I just thought it was some fucked up adolescent phase! I mean you really want to get your ass shot in some Stan somewhere?”

“Stan?”

“Yeah, Pakistan, Afghanistan, Iraqistan!”

“I guess I'm a patriot!”

“Fuck...”

Silence fell in the tiny bathroom. Lip seemed to be thinking.

“Don't worry it was really discouraging.” Ian finally said, sitting on the edge of the bathtub.

He knew that his brother was worried about him but there was no point in yelling, Ian knew he would never be accepted into West Point with his current grades. It was in those moments that he wished he could be Lip.

“I need like a 4.2 GPA, a massive STA score, and a recommendation from the President, or some shit. The only thing I know I can pass for sure is the fitness test...”

“So what? The army requires straight As now to get your legs blown off in Kabul?”

Ian sighed. Lip didn't understand. Lip couldn't understand. Silence fell again. Lip rested his back against the door frame.

“You really want this shit?” he finally asked.

Ian took a few seconds to think. Did he really want this?

“Yes.”

Lip looked at the papers he was still holding in his hands.

“Then fuck it! Let's make this shit happen!”

Ian raised his head. Really? Among all the scenarios he had imagined for this conversation to go, this one was the least likely. Lip was actually going to help him realize his dream?

“Yeah?” he asked as a reassurance.

“Hell yeah!” Lip shouted. “President's a local boy, I can tutor you.”

Ian smiled. Lip smiled too.

“Still think it's fucking stupid.”

 

******

 

Ian regretted not being able to go see Mickey in juvie more than he did, but something always came up. Plus, he kind of enjoyed the idea that Mickey would be chocked to see him so changed when he'd be out. So he used his rare free time to work out more and study trigonometry with Lip.

 

And when Mandy told him she would be going to get Mickey out of juvie the next day, Ian had trouble contain his excitement. He managed, without really knowing how, to accompany Mandy instead of Iggy – who was supposed to go with his sister at first. It was a very hot day and Ian was all smiley-dopey, chain-smoking because, let's face it, he was a little nervous too.

“You know you didn't have to come with me.” Mandy told him.

“Bad neighborhood.” Ian answered.

“We live in a bad neighborhood.”

“Yeah, but we're related to the bad people in our bad neighborhood.”

And then, Mickey was there, walking toward them, his grumpy face on.

“What the hell is he doing here?”

“Hey Mick.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: "Happy is overrated".
> 
> I wanted to post it today to make up for me being late, but I just realized I haven't finished it, so sorry...
> 
> Here's a little preview though :  
> "God, Ian looked good. Those were the first words that came to Mickey's mind when he saw him standing there, waiting to get him out of juvie. They barely exchanged a few words, Mandy making most of the talking, and the three of them returned to their own crappy neighborhood safely. Mickey had to return to his house, at least for a couple of hours, just to show his brothers and father he was back and hadn't become anyone's bitch. They exchanged a few beers and a joint – the 'Welcome back' parties at the Milkovich house weren't what they used to be anymore, they became just as regular as every Friday night – and Mickey finally managed to escape. He met Ian under the L – the redhead had left Mandy with one of her fuck buddies – and together they made their way to the dugouts of the old baseball field."


	8. Happy is overrated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey is back from juvie.  
> The boys move on with their relationship.  
> Happiness seems so close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm late again. Sorry.  
> Last chapter was short, so this one is longer than usual. Enjoy :)

 

_God, Ian looked good._ Those were the first words that came to Mickey's mind when he saw him standing there, waiting to get him out of juvie. They barely exchanged a few words, Mandy making most of the talking, and the three of them returned to their own crappy neighborhood safely. Mickey had to return to his house, at least for a couple of hours, just to show his brothers and father he was back and hadn't become anyone's bitch. They exchanged a few beers and a joint – the 'Welcome back' parties at the Milkovich house weren't what they used to be anymore, they became just as regular as every Friday night – and Mickey finally managed to escape. He met Ian under the L – the redhead had left Mandy with one of her fuck buddies – and together they made their way to the dugouts of the old baseball field.

 

Ian talked about maths, about summer school, and about West Point, about Lip who didn't want him to apply at first but now helped him, about his new ROTC officer who was such a great role model, and about becoming an officer. Mickey listened, taking it all in, and enjoying way more than he should all the useless pieces of information Ian gave him. He also tried not to let this strange feeling he had when Ian talked about going away settle. And finally, they were there, in front of their wooden bench.

“So, you made a lot of friends on the inside?” Ian asked.

Mickey looked at him with his playful smirk.

“You wanna chitchat more or you wanna get on me?”

 

Ian sighed. Of course he wanted to 'get on' Mickey. He was still craving him with all his might even though they were only inches apart, but that was the problem wasn't it? He was craving him entirely, not just the ass to fuck and the dick to suck. He wanted the chitchat too, and the private jokes, and the kisses, and eventually the holding hands crap. So he decided to not 'get on' Mickey.

“Fuck you Mick. If I asked, it's because I actually want an answer. And I'm sorry if it didn't seem like it because I didn't manage to come see you often, but I actually missed you these past few months!”

 

Mickey sighed. Fuck, that redhead would be the death of him. Ian was pouting now, or at least it looked like it. Mickey took only a few seconds to think it over, before taking a step closer and grabbing the back of Ian's head to bring their forehead together. They were almost breathing in each other mouth and it would have been so easy to actually go for a kiss, but neither of them did it. They closed their eyes for a moment, enjoying this rare piece of intimacy.

“I missed you too.” Mickey murmured. _And I'll fucking prove it._

He took a step back, letting go of Ian's head to fumble with his belt. He opened the redhead's fly and tugged on his pants and boxers before getting to his knees. He had never gave a blow job before and he felt a little self-conscious facing Ian's dick, but it didn't last more than three seconds before he decided to just go for it.

 

Ian gasped. _Holy fucking shit._ He had trouble breathing when Mickey had pulled their faces so close together and said those words, but now it was just too much. Mickey's mouth was wrap around him, licking and sucking sloppily. It was awkward and messy, but it was great. Truth: Ian didn't have any other blow job experience to compare this one too, but he just knew it wasn't always that good. He let his hands reach Mickey's hair and tried not to fuck his mouth with his hips, but it was so damn difficult.

 

When he felt Ian fucking into his mouth a little too harshly, Mickey pulled out for a second, and Ian's voice came running to his ears, all breathy and panting.

“Don't stop...”

Mickey smiled and looked up. Blue eyes locked with green eyes. And he took Ian in again, not breaking eye contact. After that, it only took a few seconds for Ian to come, hot on Mickey's tongue. And Mickey tried to swallow as best as he could. It was messy and clumsy, but he had never felt anything so intense before.

 

******

 

Ian was sitting on the stairs in the backyard of the Gallagher house, watching Debbie and her day-care kids play into the pool, when Lip came to sit next to him. He handed him a joint, Ian took a drag of it, and handed it back to his brother.

“You're not fucking Mandy, are you?” Lip asked.

Of course he wasn't fucking Mandy, and Lip should know it. He had known Ian was gay for a couple of years now, when he found his porn magazines hidden behind their wardrobe.

“No I'm not. Why is everybody asking me that?”

“Who else asked you?”

“Nobody.”

Ian leaned back, his elbows resting on the stair above his waist. Maybe he had said a little too much this time. But Lip seemed to have other matters in mind.

“Can I? Fuck her?”

“Since when do you ask permission to fuck a girl?”

“I don't know dude, she's like your girlfriend or something!”

“My best friend. And yes, you can fuck her. But if you mess with her, if you hurt her in any way, I'll fuck you up so bad you won't recognize yourself in the mirror anymore!”

“Okay I won't hurt her! Jesus Ian, if I wanted to hear that kind of talk, I would have asked Mickey!”

Ian smiled slightly. Yes, maybe he did start to sound like a little like his... _boyfriend?_

“How did he take it by the way?” Lip continued. “When you started 'dating' his sister?”

Ian shrugged.

“Okay I guess. But I know how to take him.”

Ian closed his eyes, enjoying the sun on his face, and smiling internally at his own stupid pun.

 

******

 

Ian and Mickey had became some kind of 'a thing', a thing only them knew about. They met as often as they could, managing with each other's schedule. They talked more and more, and randomly hung out, and they started to fuck in other places than just the dugouts or the freezer at the Kash and Grab. One night, Ian suggested the van in the backyard of his house. Carl used to sleep in it, but it was now too cold outside so he was back in the crowded bedroom. Mickey was slightly uncomfortable with all these remaining posters of Megan Fox – it reminded him too much of his bedroom and a time he tried to forget – but Ian made him took his mind off the actress soon enough. Another night, when they were walking together, they found an abandoned building and decided to make it their own. They brought back an old mattress to fuck on it, and random stuff to create an obstacle course for Ian to train while Mickey watched him and smoked. And some other times, very rare times, they fucked in each other's bed. When one of their houses was empty and sure to remain this way for a couple of hours. They laughed, they drank together, they exchanged cigarettes. In other words, they were kind of happy.

 

******

 

[Mick 5.01pm] _home's empty for the night_

[Ian 5.10pm] _I'll be right there._

 

******

 

It was so much, too much. Mickey suspected sex could be great, and Ian had already made him see stars – as gay as that sounded – but he didn't think it could be THAT great. It was just... so much, too much. “Making love” is what they called it right? That was it, that was just that.

It was the first time they did it face to face. Mickey wasn't sure how it happened, but now Ian's face was inches away from his. Foreheads touching, breaths melting into one, eyes closed. Suddenly, Mickey felt Ian's lips on his. For once he didn't care. He didn't fucking care. He even liked it, craved it, wanted more. So he kissed back, deepening it so that their tongues were playing with each other. Mickey's right hand left Ian's shoulder to go grab the back of his head, playing with his hair. But soon, way too soon, Ian pulled out to breathe. And that's when the words came out of his mouth, no higher than a whisper, it was like they had escaped him, like he had tried to control them but the kiss set them free.

“I love you.”

Mickey's eyes shot open and were immediately met by green eyes. 'I love you too', he wanted to answer. He really did. But he couldn't. What was happening right then and there couldn't be happening. Not with Terry this close. Suddenly, Mickey felt crowded. Ian was touching him too much. He needed to put some distance between them. So he grabbed Ian and turned them around – the redhead was too far gone to resist. Mickey started riding him, putting a hand on Ian's chest to keep the distance between them. Ian did his best to thrust up, his fingers digging into Mickey's hips with one hand, the other one running up and down Mickey's dick. The new position wasn't as perfect as the previous one, but it hit his prostate just fine, and with a couple of more thrusts Mickey was done, coming into Ian's hand and chest. Ian was quick to follow. Too quick to follow. It was almost like they came together and this was too much for Mickey, way too much. He pulled out as fast as he could and started to put his clothes on, Ian still lying in bed, watching him closely.

“What are you doing? I thought the house was empty for the night?”

Mickey didn't have a good answer. He just wanted to run away.

“I need a drink.” he mumbled, and reached for the door knob, before stopping dead on his tracks.

Noises were coming from the front door. And not good noises. He turned to look at Ian, lying naked on his bed. The most beautiful and scary picture all at once.

“Put your fucking clothes on.”

The redhead must have heard Mickey's panic in his low voice because he did as told quickly and without arguing. Mickey put his hand on the door knob.

“Stay here. Don't fucking move. And find a place to hide if necessary.”

Ian nodded, and Mickey opened the door slowly.

 

When Mickey closed his bedroom's door behind him, he saw Terry stumbled in the living room, drunk off his ass, with the trashiest woman possible at his arm – probably a hooker.

“I thought you were out for the night.” Mickey tried to say casually, doing his best not to look at the woman taking her clothes off.

“Well this is my fucking house or not? I'm here if I want to be here!” Terry more or less yelled. “And right now I want to fuck that pussy.”

The ' _couple_ _'_ fell down on the couch, already moaning. It was gross. Mickey turned back on his heels to return to his room. Ian, who just sat on the bed, looked up at Mickey when he came back.

“What's going on?” he asked, no higher than a whisper.

Mickey bite his lower lip, pacing, trying hard not to let himself go into total freak out mode.

“Just... shut the fuck up!”

He didn't want to be mean, but really it was the only thing he could have said right now. Ian nodded silently, and looked down at the floor. Mickey sighed and went to sit on the bed next to the redhead. He reached for a cigarette in the pack lying at the foot of the bed, lit it, took a drag, and handed it to Ian. They smoked in silence, waiting for the danger to disappear, Ian stealing glances at Mickey and Mickey avoiding his eyes. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Mickey heard the familiar sound of Terry snoring. And, indeed, when the brunet boy opened his bedroom's door to sneak a peek in the living room, his father was sprawled out on the couch, soundly asleep. Mickey motioned for Ian to get out, and almost dragged him out of the house, closing the door to his face when he felt that the redhead was about to say something.

_Fuck._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are. Next chapter is the last one of Part 1. I named it “How to get away with murder” and, as you can guess, it's not a fun chapter. And yes, somebody might die (although it's not really a surprise because I tagged it from the very beginning of this story). I'm sorry in advance.


	9. How to get away with murder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian hasn't talked to Mickey in a while. He misses him. He's afraid he messed everything up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loads of family time in this chapter. But I kind of needed it.
> 
> I decided to write this chapter less violent that I was originally planning to. But the horrible violent scenes are written, and will come later.

 

Ian knew he had freaked Mickey out. He knew he shouldn't have said those words, but they had escaped him in the heat of the moment. _Fuck._ He kicked the not-so-white-anymore fence in front of their house and flicked his cigarette butt away.

“What's wrong with you?” Debbie's voice asked.

“Nothing.” Ian answered, turning to see his two sisters walking toward him, the arms full of grocery bags, and Liam in his stroller.

“Good” Fiona said. “So you can help me with those.”

She put her two bags into Ian's arms and detached Liam from the stroller so she could walk the few steps to the house while she carried the stroller inside. Ian followed Debbie to the kitchen and helped her put the food away.

“You know if somebody messed with you I could help you put them down, Mandy taught me a few stuff.”

Ian chuckled, when Debbie took out her new weapon.

“Thanks Debs, but I don't think that would be necessary. Plus, ROTC you know? I think I can defend myself.”

Debbie nodded approvingly.

“Debs, you should give that thing back to Mandy.” Fiona said, walking into the kitchen.

“But she gave it to me so I can keep the pervs away from me!”

“It's not like she gave her a 22, Fiona. This isn't more dangerous than the baseball bat.”

Fiona sighed. Ian knew his big sister agreed with him. And in this neighborhood, nobody would never be enough protected.

 

******

 

It had been days now. Days since Ian had seen Mickey. He had called him, texted him, no answer. He had even been to the dugouts. Mickey was obviously avoiding him. After turning around for about two hours in his tiny bed, Ian had decided. He would try to talk to his... whatever the hell Mickey was to him. He missed him, and they needed to clear the air about what had been said – and not said back. He almost ran to the Milkovich house. When he arrived there, Mandy and Iggy were bickering and apparently about to get in the car.

“Hey Mands!” Ian called.

Mandy turned to see him and smiled as he appeared.

“Where you going?”

“Milwaukee.”

Ian raised his eyebrows in surprise – thing he had definitely picked from Mickey.

“Why?”

“Mandy, let's go!” Iggy called from the driver seat.

“I'll tell you when I get back!” Mandy answered while getting in the car.

“Wait!” Ian exclaimed, gripping the door before Mandy closed it. “Have you seen Mickey around? He owes me 50 bucks!”

Mandy shook her head.

“Haven't seen him in a few days!”

Ian released the door and the car was gone.

 

******

 

Mickey slowly opened the door of his bedroom. He was out of smokes, out of beers, it was time to get out. He wished with all his might that Mandy hadn't invited her redheaded best friend over. He wasn't up to see him right now. And yes, maybe he was avoiding him, and his texts and calls, but he had a good reason right? Right? Ian had gotten too attached, Mickey had gotten too attached, and Terry was still there, lurking in the shadows. This whole... thing... was bound to end at some point and it was better now with everybody safe and sound, than a couple of months later with one of them – if not both – six feet under because of Terry.

The Milkovich house was awfully quiet and empty. Mickey grabbed a pack of beer in the fridge – which was mostly filled with alcoholic beverages – and was about to go back to his bedroom when he heard voices coming from Mandy's. The door was half open so it meant she wasn't with some fuck buddy but with... a friend. Mickey approached discretely. He needed to, at least, hear his voice, as creepy as that sounded. But, to his great disappointment, he didn't recognize the voice talking with Mandy. He opened the door fully.

“Hey.”

“Hey Mickey!” Mandy exclaimed. “Haven't seen you in over a week! I was about to go check if you weren't dead in your bed!”

Mickey flipped her off before noticing the little girl next to his sister.

“Who the fuck is this?”

Mandy smiled, putting a hand on the girl's shoulder.

“This is Molly, from Milwaukee. Remember? Our half-sister?”

Mickey nodded. Yes, it did ring a bell.

“My mom died.” Molly explained.

“Sorry about that.” Mickey said before turning on his heels back to his bedroom. _Welcome to hell little sis._

 

******

 

Days passed. Ian was back at the dugouts almost every night, hoping that Mickey would show up. He didn't. He never did. And after another week of being desperate, Ian kind of gave up. Mickey would come back when he would. It was always that way between them. Mickey would freak out and disappear, before finally coming back to Ian when he was ready, whether it took weeks, months or even years.

 

And then it happened. Terry Milkovich was arrested, put away for good. But Ian didn't learn about it before Kev came back from the Alibi Room, telling everybody about it.

“Terry Milkovich is always arrested.” Lip said.

And he wasn't wrong.

“Yeah but this time he got life!” Kev insisted.

“How did the cops finally manage that?” Veronica asked.

“He beat one of his kids to death of something...”

Ian's head shot up. From the corner of his eyes, he caught Lip worryingly looking at him.

“Which kid?”

“I don't know... One of his sons, or one of his daughters, I don't know...”

“Mandy? He only has one daughter!!!”

Ian was panicking now. He remembered he hadn't seen Mandy since she left for Milwaukee. He didn't why she went there, or when she came back. He had been too caught up in his story with Mickey to care about his best friend. Fiona and V both looked at Kev with daggers in their eyes.

“Fuck man!” Lip let out.

Kev looked between the two of them and Ian's face.

“Fuck!” he suddenly understood. “She's your girlfriend right?”

“More like my best friend, and Lip's fuck buddy.” Ian muttered.

“Fuck, I'm sorry. Don't worry, I'm pretty sure it was a guy. Must have been one of his sons...”

Everybody started to agree, relieved to the idea, but Ian's panic didn't go away. His mind was now on Mickey and he was scared as shit. While his family tried to guess what could have happened, the redheaded teenager left his house from the kitchen door, without really knowing if he actually managed to formule some kind of excuse out loud.

Once outside, he ran to the Milkovich house, his heart pounding in his chest. _Fuck. Mickey. Mickey. Mickey._

The gray house seemed as empty and desolated as usual. Ian knocked on the door. Once. Twice. Nobody answered. He opened the never-locked-door.

“Mandy?” he asked.

Silence.

“Mickey?” he tried.

Silence.

Ian moved slowly into the living room, and the kitchen, half afraid to step onto a corpse, the other half afraid of being caught by an unwelcoming Milkovich. He sneaked a peek into the other rooms of the house. Nobody was there. Just a deadly silence. Ian, with an unsteady breathing, went into Mandy's bedroom. The drawers of her dresser were opened and empty. It looked like she left in a hurry. Mickey's room was in the same state. But not the other ones. Mandy and Mickey's stuff were gone. And so were they...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep. That's it for now. I love cliffhangers! ;)
> 
> So... who died? Who did Terry kill? I really want to hear your guesses...

**Author's Note:**

> Please, leave comments, feedbacks (and eventually kudos), everything to help me make this better.
> 
> Come say "hi" on Tumblr! Let's talk, be weird together and then be friends (or not): ilostmylifeonline.tumblr.com


End file.
